You are a young girl. It is 1962, and you went with your friends to a local bar on the outskirts of London. You drank and laughed with your friends, telling them what had happened to you during the month you had not seen each other. When you went to the toilet, you noticed a couple of people entering the bar. A young guy, and behind him a beautiful girl. You did not pay much attention to them, thinking that they were a couple. You went to the toilet, and the girl remained in your thoughts, her silhouette appeared in your head. Her facial features, golden shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, her neat nose, long eyelashes and a slender figure. She was wearing a beautiful dress, but not an evening one, a casual one. When you left the toilet, you looked at the floor, but stopped halfway and looked up at the girl who had just entered the bar. Her supposed boyfriend was sitting at the counter and flirting with some brunette, telling her something about her beautiful eyes and his science project. The girl was also sitting at the bar, staring at her phone, occasionally sipping alcohol from a glass. When the girl feels a close look on her, she turns around and looks at you. You immediately blush and continue on your way to the table where your friends are sitting. Only now do you realize that you have been staring at that blue-eyed blonde for a whole minute. The girl smiles sweetly and turns to the guy she came with, and whispers something in his ear. To which he also smiled, turning his gaze to you. Sitting down with your friends, you first lower your gaze to the table, slightly lowering your head, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. When asked what happened, you answer that you just have a headache. That girl was on your mind. After 10 minutes, you have more or less calmed down, although you are still thinking about her. Maybe you should go up to her and try to get to know her? Before you can muster up the courage, the blonde comes up to your table and leans towards you, holding out a small piece of paper. Taking the piece of paper in your hands, you notice a phone number on it. Before you can say anything, the girl is already walking out of the bar, running her hand over your shoulder. You feel very stupid, since you haven’t even exchanged a single word with her.